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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513672">You don't know what it's like to lose them</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfangirltrash/pseuds/gayfangirltrash'>gayfangirltrash</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>221B Baker Street, M/M, Men of Letters, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Multiple POV's</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:06:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfangirltrash/pseuds/gayfangirltrash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and Merlin meet at narcotics anonymous. After Merlin vanishes right in front of him, Sherlock and john find him again and help him bring back Arthur. They're trail leads them to america, where they meet the Winchesters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first ever fanfic. probably sucks, but i tried. :/<br/>Sherlock and John aren't actually together, but they act like it. They'll realize their feelings sooner or later.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Over the past month, John had dragged Sherlock out of three cocaine dens. After the last one, he decided enough was enough. He threatened Sherlock that he would leave and take Rosie with him if he didn't clean up his act.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is how Sherlock ended up here, in a narcotics anonymous meeting, on a Thursday night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room where the meeting is being held is dark. Soot stains the floor and the walls are empty except for a large bulletin board containing information on upcoming meetings. The group sits in a large circle of chairs, and all but three are full. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At exactly eight o clock, a homely looking women walks in and takes a seat in one of the unoccupied chairs. She smile at the group, holds up her clipboard, and speaks. “Welcome to Narcotics Anonymous!” she says cheerilly. “My name is Catherine. The road to recovery is a rough one, but with each others help and support I am sure you can all succeed! Now.” She glances at her clipboard. “Today we have a few new members!” she turns expectantly to sherlock, her eyes bright. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glances around the room before answering. Eight other people stare back, in various states of physical decay. A few seem to have caved in chests, while others have bloodshot eyes and twitching fingers. He nearly laughs out loud. None of these people even look like they’re trying to get clean. But one person in particular catches his eye. Without thinking, he blurts out a random name of no significance. “Greg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay Greg. Tell us about yourself,” she smiles at him. “Why are you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cocaine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowns slightly, before chippering up. “Well. Moving on!” She searches the faces of the others before focusing on the man Sherlock had noticed earlier. “What about you? Whats your name!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man shifts lightley. “Merlin,” he answers. He laughs. “I’m here for everything.” His eyes pass over everyone in the circle, pausing on each one before answering. “Heroin,” he says, looking at a slouched old man. “Ketamine.”  A disheveled women in her twenties. “LSD.” a woman in her forties. “Steroids.” A young man. And on. “Marijuana, Kratom, PCP. Cocaine,” he says, his gaze landing on Sherlock. “And last but not least,” he says, looking at Catherine, “prescription opioids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs nervously. “Well! Thats nice…” Her hands start twitching. “I- I think thats enough for today! Meetings over!” She rushes out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock stares curiously at Merlin as he stands up to leave. The man either has excellent deduction skills, or… something else. As if feeling him staring, Merlin stops outside the door and turns to look at sherlock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock stares for a second more before answering. “You seem highly functional for someone hooked on so many drugs, yet you weren’t lying about any of them. You managed to deduce that Catherine was using, something even I hadn’t realized, and you could tell just by looking at each of the others which drug they were high on. It’s curious. The average person doesn’t have the intellect for that level of deduction. Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin laughs. “Not much gets by you, Sherlock Holmes, even when you’re on withdrawal.” He turns and continues down the hall out the building. Sherlock follows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you know who I am. Not that difficult, all you have to do is open a newspaper. You didn’t answer my question.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Merlin turns down an alley off the street. “Oh but I did. I told you who I was at the meeting.” He turns, walking backwards, to look at Sherlock’s face. “I’m Merlin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes flash gold, and he vanishes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sherlock barely notices his walk home after that. His mind races as he goes over the events of the evening, piece by piece, trying to make sense of it. Merlin, the legendary sorcerer of old, really exists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not really all that crazy,” he mutters to himself. “You’ve considered the existence of magic before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he realizes it, he stands at his door on baker street. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need to find him again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. He unlocks the door and rushes up the stairs. John sits in his arm chair, his daughter Rosie in his lap and a book in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“John,” Sherlock says, urgency in his voice. “I need your help.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Merlin hadn’t expected to meet the legendary Sherlock Holmes. He hadn’t really expected to go to the narcotics anonymous meeting either. He had just ended up there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>These days, Merlin never made plans. He would leave his flat in the mornings and come back late at night, often barely remembering where he had gone and what he had done. But today was different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After realizing who the curly haired man sitting across from him was, Merlin had decided to have a little fun. He diagnosed the symptoms of his fellow addicts, helped along by his medical training as well as his past experiences, and only a little magic. He was going to show off in front of the renowned detective and leave it at that. But after…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about Sherlock felt important. Important in the way Arthur used to feel important. As though his presence was crucial to the fabric of reality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meeting Sherlock gave Merlin hope. And as Merlin had learned many times already, hope is a very bad thing.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this was super short. sorry about that. i decided its only going to be from one persons point of view per chapter, and I wanted to add a little snippet from merlins view before continuing on with the plot.<br/>also, sorry about any bad grammar and spelling. I mostly care about the writing right now. at the very end i might go over and edit the whole thing. we'll see.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock and John go looking for Merlin</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so like... sorry???? it has been a while. i think since these beginning chapters are kinda boring i lost motivation to write them, but hopefully it wont be as long before i post the next chapter. i also know my chapters are very short, but what can i say? i suck at writing.<br/>also, its very small, but theres a nod to doctor who in this chapter. it probably wont have any future relevance, but who knows?<br/>my tumblr is @nimbus713</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Explaining the situation to John was hectic. At first he thought it was some mental breakdown. Then, he thought it was a prank. But finally, he realized Sherlock was telling the truth.</p>
<p>“You’re telling me that Merlin really exists. The Merlin. Sword in the stone Merlin.”</p>
<p>“Yes. And I assume, by correlation, all the others existed too. Lancelot, Guinevere, Gwaine, Arthur,” Sherlock lists. He continues to pace around the room. “He seemed so sad. As though he had lost everything.”</p>
<p>“Well obviously,” John muses. “If all of them were real they existed hundreds of years ago. They must all be dead now. He probably has no one.”</p>
<p>Sherlock ponders this for a moment. “You’re right. No wonder he uses so many drugs. Bastard’s probably immortal.” He slouches down on his arm chair. “All the more reason to find him.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>It wasn’t that hard. Turns out, when you’re immortal and never leave london, people notice. </p>
<p>The hardest part was figuring out what to google. ‘Merlin’ was obviously off the table, as the king arthur myths had been around for hundreds of years. The jackpot turned out to be ‘man sighted in london throughout the centuries’. While there were plenty of blogs covering the subject, it didn’t take long to find one they were looking for, as they all seemed to have information concerning the same handful of people.</p>
<p>“Sherlock, this has everything!” exclaims john. “Pictures, descriptions, locations, maps! Apparently he hasn’t been trying hard to hide.”</p>
<p>“Good job john. Now,” he stares at the screen. “Look at the maps.” John complies, clicking on the extension. A map of europe pops up, scatters with red pins. A few are in random places, like italy, but the majority are clumped together on the outskirts of london. “Zoom in,” sherlock says. </p>
<p>“Looks like the majority of these sightings are around here,” John says, pointing to a lake on the outskirts of london. “We should go there tomorrow.” He looks to sherlock, who is looking over his shoulder. His eyelids are drooping and he keeps rubbing his eye. “But for now, lets go to bed.” Sherlock nods in agreement, and they head to their rooms, silently wondering what the morning will bring.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Restless and apprehensive, they wake up early. Leaving Rosie with Mrs. Hudson, they catch a cab across town.</p>
<p>When they reach the lake, the first thing they notice is the island in the middle of it. On the peak of its hill, there is a collapsed structure, and in the foggy air it looks quite ominous. On the edge of the shore, a small board walk juts out into the water. A small rowboat is tethered there, equipped with oars and life vests. John sighs.</p>
<p>“We have to go out to the island, don't we?”</p>
<p>“Probably best. It will take less time to row there than it would to walk around the island, and its smarter to do the shorter task first.” Sherlock replies. John sighs again.</p>
<p>The stumble down to the dock, nearly tripping on the uneven ground. Sherlock immediately jumps into the boat, sending it rocking and making himself fall over. John laughs, before getting in himself, with much more care than Sherlock. He forces Sherlock into a life vest, and they start off.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take long to reach the island. They alternate between rowing, and in ten minutes they’re tying off on another boardwalk. A dark silence seems to blanket the island. There are no animals and no wind, and the only sound that can be heard is the squish of grass as they trudge their way up to the ruins.<br/>They slow down as the toppled structure comes into view. Rubble lays strewn about on the ground, and some larger chunks show remnants of what once was. But that isn’t what catches their eyes. Leaning against one of the remaining walls is a man. His head is bowed, but as they get closer he glances up.</p>
<p>“Well,” he says, and his eyes flash gold. “Looks like you found me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i know it sucks. i edited the format a couple of times, and i might edit the text in the future, but who knows?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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